The Indigo Spell (13 page)

“Trey’s not like the rest of them,” I said defensively. “He refused to kill her and
even went through the trouble of getting me in to help her—which ended up severely
messing up his life, I might add.”

Eddie looked amused, despite the grim subject. “You should also add that he wants
very, very badly to get back to that old life.”

I pointed at Eddie with my fork. “Don’t tell me you think Trey’s a bad choice too.”

“For tutoring?” He shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine. I’m just saying you shouldn’t
be so quick to assume everything’s happy and bright with him. It seems pretty likely
his group’s working against us.”

“He’s my friend,” I said, hoping my firm tone would put an end to the discussion.
After a few more assurances, Eddie convinced Angeline to work with Trey, reminding
her she needed to keep her grades up. Still, Eddie’s words haunted me. I believed
absolutely that Trey was my friend but again wondered when that rift between us would
rear its ugly head.

When Eddie and Angeline left to go to their afternoon classes, I asked Jill to hang
back at the table for a minute. “What’s Adrian doing right now?”

“He’s in his painting class,” she said promptly.

“The bond must be running strong today, huh?” I asked. Sometimes her view of his mind
and experiences was clearer than others.

She shrugged. “No, but it’s eleven on Tuesday.”

“Right,” I said, feeling foolish. I knew everyone’s schedules; it was necessary for
my job. “I should’ve realized that. Do you think he’d be able to meet up with me after
school?”

“To go on that witch hunt? Yeah, he’d probably leave right now.”

Jill knew what Adrian knew, so she’d also been briefed about my search for Veronica.
While I’d learned to accept Jill’s knowledge as part of confiding in Adrian, it was
still a little shocking for me to hear these forbidden topics discussed openly. Seeing
my stunned reaction, Jill smiled a little.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I keep Adrian’s secrets. And yours.” The bitterness in her
voice also caught me off guard.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, puzzled. “You’re not . . . you’re not still upset about
what happened between Adrian and me, are you? I thought you’d eased up on that.” Although
Adrian’s proclamation of loving me against the odds had been unsettling, his more
relaxed attitude had come through in her until now.

“Adrian has,” she said. “He doesn’t see the danger of you running around with another
guy.”

I was lost. “Another guy? You don’t mean . . . Marcus? That’s crazy.”

“Is it?” asked Jill. The bond was so strange at times. Jill was jealous on Adrian’s
behalf. “He’s human, you’re human. You’ve both got this rebel Alchemist thing going
on. And I saw him. He’s pretty cute. There’s no telling what could happen.”

“Well, I know what could happen: nothing,” I said. Even through a psychic bond, Marcus
could win over girls. “I just met him. I don’t even know if I can entirely trust him,
and I certainly don’t have any feelings for him. Look, I get that you want to help
Adrian, but you can’t be mad at me about what happened. You know why I turned him
down—especially after Micah.” Micah was Eddie’s human roommate, and even though she
knew human-vampire relationships couldn’t get serious, she’d still been surprised
at just how complex and difficult the situation had been.

“Yeah. . . .” She frowned, no doubt conflicted over Adrian’s feelings and what she
knew was true. “But maybe with Adrian, I don’t know. Maybe things could be different.
Or maybe there’s at least a way to make them less painful for him.”

I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. I didn’t like to think of Adrian in pain,
but what else could I do? What did either of them expect me to do? We all knew the
rules.

“I’m sorry,” I said, picking up my tray and standing. “I never asked for any of this.
Adrian will get over me.”

“Do you really want him to get over you?” she asked.

“What? Why would you even ask something like that?”

She didn’t answer and instead made a great show of stirring around her mashed potatoes.
When I realized she wasn’t going to elaborate, I shook my head and walked off toward
the exit. All the while, I could feel her watching me as that question echoed in my
mind:
Do you really want him to get over you?

AS JILL HAD SAID,
Adrian was more than happy to begin our hunt that afternoon. In fact, when I finally
got ahold of him, he offered to pick me up when classes ended, in order to maximize
our time. I didn’t mind this since it meant I’d get to ride in the Mustang. Admittedly,
I would’ve preferred to drive it myself, but I’d take what I could get.

“When are you going to name the car?” I asked him once we were on the road to Los
Angeles.

“It’s an inanimate object,” he said. “Names are for people and pets.”

I patted the Mustang’s dashboard. “Don’t listen to him.” To Adrian, I said, “They
name boats all the time.”

“I don’t really understand that either, but maybe I would if my old man ever fronted
me the money for a private yacht.” He shot me a quick, amused look before returning
his attention to the road. “How can someone as cold and logical as you be so obsessed
with something as frivolous as this?”

I wasn’t sure which part bothered me the most—being called cold or obsessed. “I’m
just giving the proper respect to a beautiful machine.”

“You named your car after coffee. That’s a sign of respect?”

“The
highest
respect,” I said.

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Okay, then.
You name it. Whatever you want, I’ll go along with.”

“Really?” I asked, a bit startled. True, I’d been badgering him about naming the car,
but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the one to wield that sort of power. “It’s a big
decision.”

“Life or death,” he said, deadpan. “Better choose carefully.”

“Yeah, but you’re the so-called creative one!”

“Then this’ll be good practice for you.”

I fell silent for a good part of the drive, struck by the gravity of the dilemma that
lay before me. What should the name reflect? The car’s sunny yellow color? Sleek lines?
Powerful engine? The task was overwhelming.

Adrian pulled me out of my thoughts when we began nearing the outer Los Angeles suburbs.
“We’re not actually going into the city, are we?”

“Huh?” I’d been waging a mental debate between Summer Wind and Gold Dust. “Oh, no.
We’re heading north. Take the next exit.”

Mrs. Santos had provided me with two neighborhoods known for their Victorian-style
houses. I’d researched them extensively online, even going so far as to look at satellite
pictures. I’d finally chosen one that most resembled my vision and crossed my fingers
I’d have the same luck as I’d had in finding Marcus’s apartment. Surely the universe
owed me a few favors.

Unfortunately, things didn’t look too promising when we finally reached the street
I’d been given. It was a peaceful residential area, filled with those same distinctive
houses, but nothing that quite matched the one I’d seen in my vision. We drove up
and down the street as I scanned each side, hoping maybe I’d missed something.

“Ugh,” I said, slouching back into my seat. No luck. The universe had apparently cut
me off. “We’ll have to check the other location, but seriously, it didn’t look like
a match.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to—” Adrian suddenly made an abrupt turn onto a side street we’d
nearly driven past. I jerked upright as he clipped the curb.

“What are you doing? Think about your tires!”

“Look.” He made another turn, putting us on a parallel street. Most of it was contemporary
California housing . . . but one block had more Victorian houses. I gasped.

“There it is!”

Adrian came to a stop on the side of the street opposite from the house of my vision.
Everything was there, from the wrapping porch to the hydrangea bush. And now, in the
full light of day, I could make out the sign in the front yard:
OLD WORLD BED-AND-BREAKFAST
. Smaller print identified it as a historic site.

“Well, there we go.” Adrian was clearly very pleased with his find, despite the risk
to the car’s tires. “Maybe Jackie’s sister is staying here.”

“Odd choice to run nefarious magical activities out of,” I remarked.

“I don’t know. Seeing as there aren’t any ancient castles in the neighborhood, then
why not a bed-and-breakfast?”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s go make some inquiries. You sure you can
muddle the minds of those who see me?”

“Easy,” he said. “Easier still if you were wearing your wig.”

“Oh, shoot. I forgot.” I ducked down and retrieved a shoulder-length brown wig that
Ms. Terwilliger had supplied me with. Even with Adrian’s magic, we wanted to take
extra precautions. While it would be good if people were visited by an unmemorable
blonde, it’d be better still if they were visited by an unmemorable brunette. I tugged
the wig on, hoping no one had seen my transformation. I lifted my head. “Does it look
okay?”

Adrian’s face showed approval. “It’s cute. You look even brainier, which I didn’t
think was possible.”

We left the car, and I wondered if I wanted to look brainier. A lot of people already
thought I was boring. Blond hair might be the only exciting thing I had going for
me. Then I thought for a minute about my recent experience scaling a fire escape,
breaking and entering, and getting into a fistfight with a fugitive. Not to mention
that I was now hunting a powerful evil witch alongside a vampire who could control
people’s minds.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t so boring after all.

We stepped inside to find a cute little lobby with an ornate desk and a sitting area
with wicker furniture. Stuffed rabbits dressed in ball gowns adorned the shelves,
and the walls actually had oil paintings of Queen Victoria. The owners apparently
took their theme very literally, though I wasn’t sure how the rabbits fit in.

A girl my age sat at the desk and glanced up in surprise from a magazine. She had
short platinum hair and hipster glasses. Tons of necklaces hung around her neck in
a gaudy display that went against my minimalist sensibilities. Hot pink plastic beads,
a sparkly green star, a gold and diamond locket, a dog tag . . . it was mind-boggling.
Even worse, she was chewing gum loudly.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”

We’d had a whole routine planned, but Adrian immediately went off script. He slung
his arm around me. “Yeah, we’re looking for a weekend getaway, and a friend of ours
swears this is top-of-the-line romance.” He pulled me closer. “Our anniversary’s coming
up. We’ve been dating for one year, but man, it hardly seems like it.”

“That’s for sure,” I said, trying to keep my jaw from dropping. I forced what I hoped
was a happy smile.

The girl glanced back and forth between us, her expression softening. “That’s so sweet.
Congratulations.”

“Can we check the place out?” Adrian asked. “I mean, if there are any vacant rooms?”

“Sure,” she said, standing up. She spit her gum into a trash can and walked over to
us. “I’m Alicia. My aunt and uncle are the owners.”

“Taylor,” I said, shaking her hand.

“Jet,” said Adrian. I nearly groaned. For inexplicable reasons, “Jet Steele” was a
pseudonym Adrian really liked using. In our rehearsal today, he was supposed to be
called Brian.

Alicia glanced back and forth between us, a small frown on her face that soon smoothed
out. I had to guess it was Adrian’s compulsion, confusing her perceptions of us a
bit. “Follow me. We have a few vacant rooms you can see.” With one last puzzled look
at us, she turned and headed toward a stairway.

“Isn’t this great, sweetie?” Adrian asked loudly as we walked up the creaking stairs.
“I know how much you like rabbits. Didn’t you have one when you were little? What
was his name, Hopper?”

“Yeah,” I said, resisting the urge to punch him on the arm. Hopper? Really? “Best
rabbit ever.”

“Oh, neat,” said Alicia. “Then I’ll take you to the Bunny Suite first.”

The Bunny Suite had more of those well-dressed stuffed rabbits as part of the decor.
The quilt covering the king-size bed also had a border of alternating hearts and rabbits
stitched in. Several books sat on the mantel above the wood-burning fireplace, including
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
and
Rabbit, Run
. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how absurdly far a theme could be taken.

“Wow,” said Adrian. He sat down on the bed and tested its bounciness, giving it a
nod of approval. “This is amazing. What do you think, buttercup?”

“I have no words,” I said honestly.

He patted the spot beside him. “Want to try it out?”

I answered with a look and felt relieved when he stood up. Adrian and beds stirred
up too many conflicting feelings in me.

After that, Alicia showed us the Morning Glory Suite, the Velvet Suite, and the London
Suite, all of which competed to outdo the others in tackiness. Nonetheless, despite
the absurdity of Adrian’s ruse, the tour had given me the opportunity to take note
of the other labeled doors in the hallway. We followed Alicia back downstairs.

“We don’t get to see the Sapphire Suite or the Prince Albert Suite?” I asked.

Alicia shook her head. “Sorry. Those are occupied. I can give you a brochure with
some pictures, if you want.”

Adrian had his arm around me again. “Angel cake, wasn’t the Prince Albert Suite where
Veronica stayed? She’s not still here, is she?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. This, at least, was similar to what we’d rehearsed. I glanced
over at Alicia. “You probably can’t tell us that, huh? If our friend Veronica’s here?
She’s really pretty, has long dark hair.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Alicia, brightening. “Of course I remember her. She was in the Velvet
Suite, actually, and just checked out yesterday.”

I resisted the urge to kick the desk. So close. We’d missed her by a day. Yes, the
universe was definitely done giving me breaks. I wouldn’t be able to cast the scrying
spell until the next full moon, which was a month away.

“Oh, well,” said Adrian, still with that easy smile. “We’ll see her for Christmas
anyway. Thanks for your help.”

“Do you want to book a room?” Alicia asked hopefully.

“We’ll get back to you on that,” I said. I actually wouldn’t have put it past Adrian
to book one and then claim it was part of our cover. “We’re checking out a few places.
A one-year anniversary isn’t something you want to make a hasty decision on.”

“But,” said Adrian, giving her a wink, “I’ve got a good feeling about the Bunny Suite.”

Alicia walked us out, her eyes widening when she saw the Mustang. “Wow, nice car.”

“It’s an amazing car,” I said.

“That’s our baby—well, until we have real ones. Don’t you think it needs a name?”
asked Adrian. “I keep trying to convince Taylor.” Once again, I had to fight the urge
to punch him.

“Oh, definitely,” said Alicia. “That kind of car . . . it’s like royalty.”

“See?” Adrian shot me a triumphant look. “And Alicia’s an expert on royalty. Didn’t
you see all those paintings?”

“Thanks for your help,” I told her, steering him forward. “We’ll be in touch.”

We got in the car, and after waving goodbye to Alicia, Adrian drove away. I stared
blankly ahead. “Much like with the Bunny Suite, I have no words to describe what just
happened. I mean, really? Our anniversary? Jet?”

“I look more like a Jet than a Brian,” he argued. “Besides, that was a much better
story than the one about how we wanted to pay a surprise birthday visit to our ‘friend’
Veronica.”

“I don’t know about that. But it
did
give us the information we needed. Which isn’t good.”

Adrian grew serious. “Are you sure? Maybe Veronica left the area altogether. Maybe
you and the other girls are out of danger.”

“That would be good, I guess . . . except, it just means some other poor girl somewhere
else would suffer instead, and we wouldn’t have any way to stop it.” From my purse,
I pulled out Ms. Terwilliger’s list of magic-using girls. “One of these addresses
is in Pasadena. We can at least swing through on our way back and warn her.”

The girl we sought was named Wendy Stone. She was a student at Cal Tech, which seemed
like an odd vocation for a wannabe witch. Of course, Ms. Terwilliger had said these
were girls who weren’t actively studying the magical path. They simply possessed magical
ability, and I supposed the fact that they had no mentors suggested that they might
actually be resistant to their inborn abilities—kind of like me.

Wendy lived in an apartment near campus that was easy to find. It was a no-nonsense,
primarily student residence, but it seemed like a luxury palace after Marcus’s building.
As we passed busy students carrying backpacks and talking about classes, I felt a
pang of longing that I hadn’t experienced in a while. Inheriting the Alchemist mantle
meant I couldn’t go to college. College was a dream I’d held on to for a long time,
though enrolling at Amberwood had helped ease some of my longing. Now, in this buzz
of academia, a surge of jealousy sprang up in me. What would it be like to have this
kind of life? To have your days solely devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, with no
intrigue or life-threatening situations? Even Adrian, with his part-time art classes,
was able to have some sort of collegiate experience.

“Don’t be so down,” he said when we reached Wendy’s floor. “You might get to college
someday.”

I looked over at him in wonder. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“Because I know you,” he said simply, no mockery in his eyes. “Your aura got sad,
and I figured being on a college campus had something to do with it.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze and turned away. “I don’t like that.”

“What, that someone actually knows what’s important in your life?”

Yes, that was exactly it. But why
did
it bother me? Because it was Adrian, I realized. Why was it that a vampire understood
me so well? Why not one of my friends? Why not one of my
human
friends?

“You can be Jet if you want,” I said brusquely, trying to get us back on track and
cover up my troubled feelings. After all, this wasn’t Sydney’s Therapy Hour. “But
we are
not
posing as a couple again.”